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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25852648">Lucky</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvvyQueen/pseuds/IvvyQueen'>IvvyQueen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gift Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Mentioned Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:07:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25852648</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvvyQueen/pseuds/IvvyQueen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren gets in trouble, and with only one call available, he chooses the only person that won't kick the shit out of him more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pieck/Eren Yeager</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lucky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>‘‘So... can you come?’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pictured the roll of her eyes, given away by the sigh that always came along. ‘‘I’ll be there in ten.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silence on the other end of the line deafened him from outside thoughts. A flat beep; she’d hung up on him, but at least she was coming, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eren rubbed his good cheek, grinding his teeth at the sharp pain on his left. A cut wide open on it, though granted, it stopped bleeding minutes ago, and across the room, the other guy looked much, much worse. A broken nose, a swollen eye and cheeks; dirt all over his leather clothes. His own hair was a mess, however; the cops hadn’t been kinder when they cuffed him and the other on the ground, breaking his old hair tie in the process before throwing them in the back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now there he stood, behind dirty bars in an excuse for a jail, one arm dangling and the other tense, fingers gripping tight, pushing himself against the metal bars to see the hour in a clock that belonged more to the nineties than the current year.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘What a waste.’’ He spit the word from his mouth, licking over the inner cut on his lip. ‘‘How did it even happen this time...?’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes drifted shut, pressing his forehead against his forearm. Third time that month he was thrown in some small cell, though it was the fourth fight of the month. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, I really am a waste, huh?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d looked at him wrong, perhaps. Eren hoped for an excuse; that the other guy had been drunkenly harassing a girl, a waitress, or the bartender. That he was being a piece of shit, or mugging somebody, anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Nah.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He remembers the man bumping his shoulder, on his way out. Instead of letting it go, he stared. A tiny bit of common sense told him to drop it, to ignore the bastard’s lack of apology and smell of cheap whiskey.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he blanked, and the man clutched the collar of his white shirt, begging- no, shouting for a reply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eren reacted with a buried fist on his bearded face, and it doesn’t take a genius to know what happened a second after.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His bruised knuckles were proof enough, if the cut on his cheek and the taste of copper on his tongue wasn’t enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The clock struck eleven with forty-two minutes. Outside, he picked up the dying screech of wheels on an unpaved road. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some other night, he’d be relieved. Right now, the shame settled in his gut. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dark hair in decent waves, a weak attempt at concealing her bedhead. A coat thrown over her usual white button-up, a long, dark skirt to match, and her helmet under her arm. She didn’t spare him a glance, not until she’d paid the bail. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she walked over to his cell, with the officer by her side to open it, the room read much smaller than it was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘You’re lucky you have her.’’ Eren heard the officer whisper as he walked past, and towards the exit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cold, not-yet-midnight air sobered him from any adrenaline, or anger, that was left in him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swallowed thick, and tried to meet her face. ‘‘H-Hey Pieck, you-’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘Were you drunk?’’ Her arms crossed under her chest, but she wasn’t patient enough for a reply this time. ‘‘No, you don’t even smell like beer, and neither does your breath.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘I just wanted some peace and quiet-’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘Yes, and you really had it by punching the living shit out of that guy?’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘No.’’ Coming from himself, everything sounded duller, but forced out by her questioning- her words and furrow of her brow above those dark, disappointed eyes; it stinged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stepped aside and motioned for him to sit on her bike. She moved to the other side and reached into her bag; rather than a purse, she picked the backpack she often took to college. From inside, she pulled out a kit, with gauze and cleaning swabs; with alcohol and, brought by hers truly, a cleaned-up needle and thread to close the cut on his cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘How did you-’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘It’s not hard to figure you’d be hurt somehow. At least it was this-’’ she pointed to his cheek, ‘‘-and not a broken arm, or chipped tooth.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A chuckle escaped, but Eren was quick to purse his lips together at the glare Pieck shot him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘I don’t think this is funny.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘I know.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘You have us worried.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘I… I know, I’m sorry.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her hand traced the edge of his jaw, tilting his face to the right. It burned to be touched, shutting close one eye and biting back a hiss; the damp cotton dabbed over his wound sent waves of itching pain down his arms, scraping the surface of his jeans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She glanced down at his hands, then back to his face. ‘‘Does it hurt?’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘A little.’’ The needled rested, hesitant, on her fingers. ‘‘I know you got to stitch; it’s fine, Pieck. Can’t be worse than the rest of the night, right?’’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t a punch on his stomach, nor did it make his knuckles ache. The pain dulled with every passing minute; the needle moved up and down, tiny knots steadily closed the cut. Neither spoke until the last stitch was done, and even then, as she packed everything back and pushed it to the bottom of her bag, her eyes ran from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘You’re still mad at me.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘And how else am I supposed to feel?’’ Pieck moved away from him, rubbing her eyes with her palm. ‘‘You call me in the middle of the night to tell me you got into a fight, asking if I can come pick you up, then I have to stitch you up, and it’s not the first time this happens!’’ Her voice rose and peaked; unusually high, considering how she always speaks with little strength, let alone yell. ‘‘What if next time I have to pick you up it’s at the hospital? Will you be satisfied then?’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breath dare not make a noise, choking on a sigh at the base of his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘Sorry, Pieck…’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘You always say that.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘I mean it, I try to,’’ Eren shifted to hold her hands, tangling the lithe hands with his own, ‘‘sorry for worrying you, and waking you up; for making you come here and bail my stupid ass again, which I promise I’ll pay you tomorrow when the bank opens.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘You’ll have to do more than that to make it up to me.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘Like what?’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pieck traced the corners of his lips with her thumb, watching them curve up into a smirk. Her eyes rolled, yet she pressed a tentative kiss against them. Their eyes drifted shut, hints of mint on her mouth; her wet, warm tongue. The blush that painted her cheeks stayed in his mind as his own eyes closed; stubborn arms wrapped around her waist, straightening his back so she wouldn’t strain her back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For more than ten seconds, he forgot about the taste of copper from his blood, and the ache on his hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She almost came into his hold completely, but the need for air and her self-control were greater this time. Hot breaths panted against her neck, his eyebrows drawing close, bottom lip poking out in his pout. ‘‘Not this time; you’re not getting away with it that easily.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘You can’t blame me for trying to distract you; you can be scarier than Mikasa’s because you smile.’’ Eren jested, tucking away a lock that fell on her face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grew silent, emerald eyes dancing over her features. From the neverending depth in her stare, to her roman nose, and the gentile smile right underneath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘Hey, Pieck?’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘Yes?’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘Thank you, for being here.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stood up from the motorcycle’s seat, leaving another kiss, but this time on her forehead. Pieck sat down, and handed him a second helmet, taking hers back. ‘‘C’mon, it’s getting late and I want to go back to bed.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eren sat down behind her, placing the borrowed helmet on him, just as she did with her personal own. His arms around her once more, he leaned forward just a little, a smile hidden behind the thick headdress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘Yeah, same here, and I hope you don’t mind me crashing there as well.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘Sure, as long as Mikasa doesn’t knock at six in the morning again. Or Armin.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘They won’t, I promise.’’ He chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘‘Good then, let’s go.’’ Pieck revved up the bike, making sure both were safe before she turned around and drove away.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>None of the characters here belong to me. This is a work of fiction purely for fun.</b>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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